Yearly Archives: 2009

Which Cowboy Boots Next?

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Okay, loyal blog readers, it’s time for another poll!

I am seriously considering getting one or both pairs of cowboy boots featured here. What do you think? Vote in the poll to the right and let me know. Thanks.

Pair 1: “Silvercreek” boot from Nocona® features a full quill ostrich leather foot and 13″ fancy stitched leather shaft. Leather lining. Supportive, handpegged steel shank. Pointed toe. Color: denim.

Pair 2: Justin “Bent Rail” buckaroo boot features a buckskin bay Apache leather foot under a fancy stitched 15″ sea blue cowhide leather shaft. Buckskin bay Apache scalloped, punched collar. Easy-on pull holes. Soft leather lining. Leather covered cushion insole and triple density insole board. 1 3/4″ heel. (Click on the image to see it larger).

Update: the poll I took from blog viewers closed on December 9. The results? 4 voted that I buy the Justin Bent Rail buckaroos; 11 voted that I buy the Nocona denim ostrich boots (plus one positive comment about them); 5 voted that I buy both pairs; and 1 voted that I buy neither pair. Majority rules! The blue ostrich boots have been ordered and are scheduled to arrive in January. (January??? yeah, January, 2010.)

The Masculine Gay Man

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Some of my past blog posts about gay men and masculinity, or masculine gay men, or even “if” gay men can look and behave in a masculine manner, continue to be among the most viewed on this blog. They are found when people use a search engine and look up “masculine gay men” or “how to find a masculine gay guy” or “can a guy be gay and masculine.”

I read a blog post dated November 6, 2009, titled The Myth of the Masculine Gay Man. In that post, the author describes some generalities and stereotypes attributed to gay men, and takes some criticism for what he said, as well.

I found the post interesting and consistent with some things that I have said. I believe that it is possible to be gay and to behave in a typical male, masculine manner. I’m just wired that way. There are other gay men who behave more effeminately, who dress more fashionably, who speak with a distinctive voice or sound, and whose behavior is more or less obviously “gay” and therefore, is more likely to be out of the closet.

I contend that there are a number of us guys who are not so obvious in our mannerisms and behavior to be labeled immediately by straight people as being gay. The blog contends: “The reason that homosexual men who don’t fall into the common “girly-man” stereotype do not come out is because of an intense fear of being excommunicated from their social group. Suddenly, once ‘out,’ they are no longer a man.“

I both agree and disagree with this assertion. I had been in the closet for a number of years, primarily for fear of reprisal where I once worked. That’s all behind me with maturity and a change of jobs where being gay is no big deal. There are other gay men where I work, and nobody treats us differently. Some of my gay peers are quite effeminate, and some are not. We all have a job to do, and that’s that. No big deal. I remain a member of my social group which consists primarily of straight people, because they compose the members of the committees, clubs, and activities in which I choose to engage. I do not self-isolate to participate in activities only with other gay people. I like to participate with people who share common interests — not “just” being gay or “just” … well… anything.

The blogger states further: “The typically masculine gay man has no category. He has no home. For him to come out of the closet is to take off a mask that no one knew was there. This kind of personal/sexual revelation makes people uncomfortable because they are forced to ask, Who else? To admit that gay men can be manly men — and not some effeminate subspecies — makes all men ask themselves, ‘could it be me next?’ “

I sense among straight guys who participate in activities in which I participate that they do not ask themselves, “could it be me next,” but rather seem to be questioning their own perceptions of what “being gay” means. I set a different example from what their previously limited exposure to gay people has been. I live in a nice home. I live in a stable, loving relationship. I have a warm and supportive family. I have a full-time job with a regular work week. I work on several local and state political campaigns and even chaired a few in the past. I contribute to the well-being of my community through active involvement and giving my time to help others. That’s just who I am. I am complex, and not easily categorized.

And that’s my point of this particular blog post: the masculine gay man is not easy to categorize. He has his interests, activities, home life, work life, and behavior as any other person does. He may not socialize only with gay people. He may not be the guy wearing a tiara in the next LGBT parade; in fact, he probably even isn’t seen on the sidelines watching. He may, or may not, be the guy dressed in leather at the next gathering of the Great Leather Clan. He may be seen presenting testimony before city or county elected officials. He may be playing recreational sports with friends on the local rugby or softball team. He may be involved with groups that do activities he enjoys. He may be at the sports bar during “the big game” cheering on his team, or hosting “the guys” for a poker and cigar night. He may be helping to care for older parents and loved-ones.

You see, to me, a masculine gay guy is first and foremost, a guy. He is who he is by how comfortable he is in his own skin. Being gay is not his primary raison d’être.

Gay men are all colors of the rainbow, and all have a seat at the table.

Life is short: be who you are.

Not a Practicing Homosexual

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A friend and I had a conversation the other day about some issues that continue to be brought up by certain members of my extended family and their hyperconcern about the fact that I am gay and yet, for example, I served as a pallbearer at a Catholic funeral for my aunt.

He said, “it’s okay to be gay and Catholic — what they get upset about is ‘practicing the act’.”

Okay, I get it. I’ll just tell them that “I am not a practicing homosexual.”

After more than 16 years with my one-and-only man, I don’t need to practice. [giggle]

Life is short: maintain your sense of humor, and if you are like me and don’t have one, surround yourself with those who do!

Tearful Thank-you Note

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I mentioned that we entertained a number of seniors and guests on Thanksgiving last Thursday. It was a lot of fun, and was not as much work as it may seem since many people helped. I remain particularly thankful to my partner, my friend “E” who did a lot of the logistical planning this year, and my family who helped orchestrate the transportation, feeding, and entertainment of our guests.

I am receiving a number of hand-written thank-you notes in the mail. It’s so sweet, and a custom seldom practiced any more. I’ve learned from a book that my best friend sent to me that Millennials (young people in their 20s) have an earnest desire to express what’s on their mind, so they think nothing of sending an email or a text as soon as possible such as a thank-you text for a job interview. Okay, I understand that better now, and will no longer think poorly of the method of communication and get to the bottom line: what was said.

I digress… I still value written thank-you notes sent in the mail. Doing that shows a level of effort — it takes work to hand-write a note, prepare an envelope for mailing, and mail it.

I received one such note yesterday that caused both my partner and me to shed tears:

Thank you for persuading me to join you for your Thanksgiving pot-luck supper. At first, I was reluctant, because I didn’t know anybody except you, and I wasn’t sure how I would feel.

Since my beloved husband died three months ago, this is the first Thanksgiving I have had without him. Our children wanted me to come to spend the holiday with them, but that would mean an airline flight and travel during the most busy period. I just couldn’t do that. They seemed to understand, though not seeing them and my grandkids weighed heavily on my mind.

You and your family warmly welcomed me, made me feel at home right away, introduced me to others, and made sure I had plenty to eat. I ended up seated next to [your partner]. He listened to me, held my hand, and was the most empathetic person I have ever met. What a wonderful, thoughtful, caring man he is. You are blessed to have him.

I never felt alone while I was there. I basked in the warm glow of joy when your niece drove me back home. I didn’t know a neighbor who lives in the building across the street from me until I met her at your party. We went out to lunch on Friday and had a great time shopping together. What an unanticipated benefit!

Thank you again for all that you do for everyone. I hear from a lot of people about how special you are, how much you are adored and loved, and why you deserve the praise you get from us. While you never asked for money, I have sent a donation to [our local fire department] as a gift in your honor.

Aw shucks… I am still sniffling. Thanks [P], you’re pretty special yourself.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

Happy First Day of Summer!

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I originally titled this post “Longing for Melbourne” but have extended it in thinking that, truly, I am longing for a visit back Down Under. (Read all the way through and you will understand the title of this blog post.)

My partner and I traveled to Australia for the first time in March, 1996, to discover what the Sydney Mardi Gras was all about. We made travel plans a year in advance, and stayed in a hotel on Oxford Street, which is the main route of the Mardi Gras parade. I recall that we bought fresh fish earlier in the day from a vendor at Bondi Beach, and came back to our hotel which had a kitchenette. I prepared dinner, and my partner and I sat on the hotel balcony to eat and watch the parade.

Wow, what a show! We were very impressed, especially because they actually started on time and kept it moving — so unlike gay parades in the U.S.

After the parade, we went out in our leather and walked to the grounds where an all-night party was held. We did a lot of man-watching, and enjoyed the whole affair. Every Aussie we spoke with was pleasant, friendly, helpful, and gracious. We got back to our hotel fairly early (as things go), about 2:00am. When we arose and looked out onto the street about 9am, we saw several people still staggering back from the party.

We thought Sydney was cool, but to be honest, we found another city in Australia captivating — Melbourne. After Sydney, we rented a car and drove south. We stayed one night in the Australian Capital, Canberra, which is a deadly boring city — much unlike Washington, DC. They roll the sidewalks up at 5pm sharp. Honestly, we could find only one restaurant that was open after 6pm for dinner.

We arrived in Melbourne the next afternoon, after a breathtaking drive on the Hume Highway. That’s where I saw my first (but not last) mob of Kangaroos out in the wild. (Photo not from the road, but at a sanctuary in Queensland taken on another trip.)

Melbourne is a fascinating, wonderful city. It is laid out well, and easy to navigate. For me, that’s a big deal because I get lost in a paper sack. We stayed with a friend who lived in a suburb east of the city.

We took our first drive on The Great Ocean Road that runs along the southern coast, and were constantly amazed at the breathtaking scenery.

We learned that Melbourne has such a good public transportation system that we really didn’t need a car. We returned the “hired car” early, and bought day passes for the trains and trams. My partner is a “tram-aholic”. We rode and rode and rode all over that wonderful area, and saw many things.

The Melbourne Zoo was terrific, as when we arrived, an Emu greeted us and took us on a personal tour. I saw my first platypus at the Platypusary. The Fairy Penguins were adorable, both at the zoo and one night when we saw them in the wild.

We enjoyed a visit to the Laird, a local leather bar full of fun guys. They made us feel very welcome, and wouldn’t let either of us buy a drink all night. We met many very fine men who were very interesting to speak with, and nice to look at, as well.

Subsequently, we have gone back to Australia seven times. Each time we went, we would pick out a new place to visit, as well as return to Melbourne. We just love the place. The people are very friendly. The town is clean, well-maintained, and the public transit is outstanding in its huge service area, its frequency and affordability.

Regretfully, the last time we were there was in 2004. That visit included an absolutely unbelievable train trek on The Ghan from Melbourne via Adelaide to Alice Springs. Then we hired a car and drove to Uluru (Ayers Rock) then flew on to and Townsville, Brisbane, and then home. Right after that visit, my partner had his first of several surgeries on his hips. Now he is unable to travel by air. He just cannot sit in a plane for a long ride, even if we travel in the Business or First Class sections. Further, he was so humiliated when we returned from IML in Chicago in May, 2007, by being subjected to a thorough, personally invasive search at security because his prosthetic hip set off the magnetometer, he refuses to consider being subjected to that treatment by the TSA again.

As the weather chills here in North America, and as I see visitors to my blog from Melbourne and my blog pal Sue from Brisbane drop in for a check, my heart longs to return to that magical, wonderful country and its southern city of Melbourne with its great vistas, wonderful friendly people, and great things to do and to see. After all, today is the first day of Summer in Australia! Hmmm… I can imagine my gorgeous partner in a Speedo at the beach … but I digress!

My Aussie friends remind me that “your seasons are timed according to the astronomical calendar instead of using meteorological seasons, and are backwards.” But our Aussie friends excuse us because we are upside down and therefore cannot think as clearly as they can since they are on the “right” side of the Earth.

Life is short: keep the dream alive! Happy first day of summer to my friends and blog visitors from the Great Land of Oz!

Thanks to Lug Soles

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It was a very nice day yesterday — sunny and unusually warm for this time of year at 64°F (18°C). I got out the Harley and went for a ride.

I had plotted a potential route to lead for my club, and wanted to check it out. I am sure glad I did.

A nice back road as it appeared on the map ended at a T-intersection. Turn left at the “T” and continue on another nice back road. Or so it seemed.

Unfortunately, the map has no details as to hills or terrain. It turned out that the intersection was on a steep incline! I later determined that it was a 15° upgrade. The road did not level off at the top of the hill — it just ended. When I stopped at the stop sign at the end of the road and top of the hill, I was pointed to the heavens. Heavens to Mergatroyd! (don’t know what this means? I date myself, but see this explanation).

I have never been adept at handling a manual transmission. For the life of me, I could not manage to get the bike revved enough while letting the clutch out to get the bike going without rolling back or potentially stalling. Heck! I was stuck!

Thank goodness for lug soles. I was wearing my tall brown Wesco harness boots that have a thick Vibram®100R lug sole. They are like snow tires for the feet. I was able to hold my very heavy motorcycle on the hill by the sheer pressure on my boots planted firmly on the pavement (and an assist from my brakes) while I was trying to figure out what to do. I couldn’t maneuver forward, as I couldn’t get the bike going without rolling back, potentially falling over, or stalling. I tried and tried and just couldn’t do it.

Fortunately, few cars came up behind me while I was stuck there, and I was able to signal to them to go around me while I was stuck in this predicament. Then, most fortunately, another biker on a big Harley like mine came up from another direction and asked if I needed help.

“Yep, I’m hillshy. I can’t go forward.”

He realized that I was stuck, and drove past me to the bottom of the hill to block traffic while I slowly backed up, turned around, and went back from the direction from which I came. As I passed him, I gave him a big thank you shout and a thumbs up. He waved. Thank goodness for the good samaritans out there in the biker community. I’m not quite sure what I would have done if he had not stopped to help.

BTW: I am not going on this route to lead a ride! I have learned my lesson.

AZ: This is precisely why I would not take you up on your offer to borrow your manual-transmission car while I visited you in Phoenix. If this happened to me while I was operating your car on the hilly terrain of Arizona, things would have gone to heck in a handbasket quickly, as I could not stick my boot out of your car onto the pavement to hold me while I was trying to rectify the problem. And, my dear AZ, this is precisely why I LIKE lug-soled boots. They saved my butt, big-time! Other than a bruised ego, nothing else happened. I did not drop my Harley as I was slowly backing up and turning on that huge incline. The boots held me and my bike firmly as I was maneuvering.

I am not skilled at using a manual transmission. My inability to use a stick-shift skillfully has a lot to do with being a klutzy, uncoordinated guy. This is why my family gave up trying to teach me how to dance. It’s just not within my skillset to learn how to handle such a situation.

Life is short: wear lug-soled boots when you operate a heavyweight motorcycle!

Batch cookin’

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My partner and I both work full-time, and when we get home from work, we’re tired and it’s difficult to find the time and energy to cook a full-blown meal. I guess that’s why a lot of people buy prepared meals and eat out.

Instead, we “pre-prepare” our meals in advance. For example, Guido (my chef’s assistant) and I got busy on Saturday afternoon and “cooked up a storm.” We made a huge pot of Chicken Soup on one burner of the stove, and a full pot of home-made tomato sauce, which we call “Salsa del Guido.”

Sure, we can buy pre-made tomato sauce in a jar or can at the grocery store. And yes, we have been known to do that. But we prefer our own sauce, in which we include ingredients we prefer: fresh onion, garlic, oregano, parsley, salt, pepper, extra virgin olive oil, and a bit of sugar to cut the acidity of the tomato base composed of tomato puree and tomato paste. Some recipes call for wine, but we don’t use it, since I am allergic to certain chemicals in grapes.

We will add all the ingredients, mix them together, and let it simmer a good 2 – 3 hours on the stove, stirring occasionally. Then I will remove the onions and garlic, and store the sauce in canning jars.

During the week when we get home and want a quick Italian meal, I will simmer some chicken in some of the sauce and boil water to make pasta. Add the chicken to the pasta with a bit more sauce and fresh grated cheese, and in 20 minutes, we have a home-cooked meal. Served with a side-salad, in no time, we enjoy a filling, balanced meal. Then, for me, often I’m off to an evening meeting, public hearing, or whatever.

Some weekend days we get really creative and productive, and make our own pasta, such as cheese ravioli. It is simple to do, but takes some time. But there’s nothing like having your own ravioli when you are tight on time but want a filling evening meal. Ravioli freezes very well, and takes just five minutes to make once the water is boiling.

Batch cooking in advance is the way to go. We can vary what we eat throughout the week and enjoy the benefits of our own creations, without having to take hours to prepare it. And that is not mentioning the money we save by not eating out or buying prepared meals that may come in too-large portions or with ingredients that don’t agree with restricted diets such as I have to live with.

Life is short: plan ahead!

Shown below, the results of our work on Saturday: Chicken soup on the left, “Salsa del Guido” on the right

Black Friday

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Yesterday, the Friday after Thanksgiving in the United States, is known as “Black Friday.” The date when stores have many sales to kick off the Christmas buying season. Thank goodness I have already completed all of my Christmas shopping for this year. However, we did have to venture out to take a trip to the dump to dispose of garbage and recyclables that remained after our Thanksgiving holiday pot-luck event. We passed by many shopping centers that were packed. Going into stores on days like this are definitely NOT my preference.

I decided in honour of Black Friday to dress completely in black leather. Black leather jacket, shirt, red-striped black leather breeches, tall Dehner bal-laced patrol boots, and even my Muir Cap and Damascus gloves. A couple of yuppies in jeans and sneakers at the dump emptying their SUVs parked on either side of me looked at me with either incredulity or awe.

After the trip to the dump, my partner and I did our weekly grocery shopping. Several people in the grocery store noticed my black leather, and one young guy asked me a lot of questions about where I got the gear and boots. I was happy to explain. He seemed intrigued.

At least I thought so. As we were ending our conversation, he asked me, “what kind of bike do you have?” I guess he assumed that the gear means that I’m a biker. Yes, that’s true. But I don’t only wear my leather gear when I ride my Harley. I wear it regularly, as often as I can. After all, I have made quite an investment in it, so I like to wear it. Hey guys, it’s time to get over worries about what others may think and leather up!

Life is short: wear your leather!

My Thanksgiving Thanks

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I referred in yesterday’s blog post that I had prepared several “Thanksgiving Thanks” which I shared during our wonderfully successful Thanksgiving pot-luck event at which 98 guests and 11 family members participated. We had four opportunities to share with the group, and one privately. I prepared separate “thank yous,” which I will share here.

Before I go on, let me extend my thanks to all readers, and wish you the best for this holiday season. Peace to all people, dogs, cats, and otherwise (smile; photo provided by a cousin).

  • 11:00am: thank you to my wonderful partner, who lights my life with his commitment, dedication, hard work, and ongoing support for all I do. I could not live nearly as well, as comfortably, or as loved without him. Without him, I couldn’t be nearly as involved with you, my guests, as I am. I cherish him, and value how much he cares for all of our guests here with us today, for his mother, and for Mother Nature (just ask the squirrels and birds in the back yard!) Thank you, thank you, for being the man you are, and for being my best half.
  • 1:00pm: thank you to my wonderful twin brother, [J], who traveled all the way from his home in Paris to visit with me twice this year, including a wonderful birthday week where we rode Harleys together, visited family, and had such a great time. He connects with me almost every day by phone, email, or comment on my blog. He shows very clearly how much he loves me, and how much he cares. His wife and this world are so much the better for having him among us. I cherish him and love him only as a twin brother can. I can’t wait to see him and his wife when they come to visit for Christmas.
  • 3:00pm: (this passage removed).
  • 5:00pm: Thank you to [E] who organized today’s event. Two weeks ago when [my partner] and I both came down the the H1N1 flu, I was feeling overwhelmed by the need to keep on top of the planning and organizing for when you all would be coming today, and what you would be bringing. [E] just took over, and organized it far better than I could ever have done. Thanks, from the bottom of my heart. And thanks to my family [name, name, name…] who helped all day, too. We couldn’t have done this without you, and we love you very much.
  • 8:30pm: to my partner, as we sit here alone after a long day … thank you for enduring what is very hard for you to do … to be “on” all day long, to be socially light, entertaining, and to smile all day. I know this whole thing has grown beyond what it started out to be. I also know that it is physically more difficult for you now. And with unexpected visits from family who stayed with us last week before my aunt’s funeral, and with us both having had the flu and being sick for a whole week right before that — today was even more challenging than ever before. Thank you for your spirit, your hard work, but most of all, my love, for your love.

Thank you, loyal readers, for visiting this blog!

Life is short: be thankful!

It Will Be A Piece of Pie

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As you read this, it is Thanksgiving Day in the United States. As you read this, imagine what my partner and I are doing right now.

Today we celebrate our tenth year of hosting a pot-luck Thanksgiving feast for friends: mostly seniors, who otherwise would be alone today. Traditionally, Thanksgiving is a day when people gather with their families, enjoy camaraderie, storytelling, music, football games on television, and too much food centered around roast turkey, as demonstrated by my friend, the Swedish Chef, and his uncle, here:

It is unfortunate that because the U.S. Thanksgiving holiday is so close to Christmas (I think the Canadians got it right when they celebrate the holiday in October), that families who are separated geographically do not get together at Thanksgiving if they must make a forced choice on which holiday to choose to gather. Thus, about 90 people we know do not have an opportunity today to get together with their respective families. But we are happy to serve as a substitute this Thanksgiving Day.

Throughout the day today, my own family will pick up senior friends and bring them to our home. Our friends bring with them some food item that they made or bought. Their contributions range from appetizers to vegetables to breads to desserts. Or, some may have contributed plastic utensils, paper products, or even trash bags (goodness knows we need them!) All of this was organized this year by the world’s #1 logistician, a senior bud and terrific planner.

Our senior friends come in “shifts” and at any given time, we may have 20 to 30 guests, being tended to by about ten of my family (siblings, nieces, and nephews). All I do is cook two turkeys the day before, and two on Thanksgiving Day. I rotate the turkey to the carving board and then warming trays throughout the day. And that’s really all I have to do, food-wise: cook four turkeys. Everything else is provided in abundance by our visitors.

We laugh, listen to the piano, talk, smile, share, and enjoy rich camaraderie among one another. And, about every two hours, we stop the festivities for a while and conduct one of my family traditions. We hold hands and go around the room and ask each person to Give Thanks to someone for something. I have spent hours composing my Thanksgiving Messages, which I anticipate with great hope will be well-received, as they are truly heart-felt.

By the end of the day, when my family helpers, my partner, and I have cleaned up the worst of it, disposed of the mess, and put what needs to be discarded in bags or boxes in the garage (which we will recycle, compost, or take to the dump tomorrow), we give my family helpers a small gift to thank them. My partner is terrific in finding just the right gift to give to them. Then, after they leave, my partner and I turn down the lights, turn on the piano one last time, and give each other a card. This is our tradition. We turn to one another, hold hands, look into each other’s eyes, and say why we are thankful this year.

Some people think that this huge all-day pot-luck Thanksgiving event is a big deal and a hassle. Actually, after ten years, we have gotten it down to a science. With everyone’s help and organization, things roll along very smoothly. it is an American expression to say, “it was a piece of cake” when referring to accomplishing a task easily. In this case, we say, “it was a piece of pie” because everyone knows that pie is the dessert of choice on Thanksgiving (not cake.)

Life is short: show those you love that you love them. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone, everywhere!